The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1887-06-08
SIS TER NGELA.
BY MRS. BELL BALL.

w ldJ tAQulSlltly
Does the face compare with them, Don
Felipe?" The speaker turned to look
after the retreating form of black
robed num- as his companion hesitated
an instant, and then answered.
"Si, Senior. Her face was once the
inspiration of a poets pen and the ar
lists brush. She is yet very beautiful,
but it is the loneliness of nature
from which the dross has been burned
by the fiery ordeal Of affection"
"Ah, a romance?"
ga sad and bitter one"
''May not hear it,"
Again Don Felipe hesitated. "The
street is not the place to relate such a
story"
"Well, we can leave the street. l
am anxious to learn the history of a
woman with hands like those; of course
it is a love story"
cit is such an one that you need
never wish to have a share in. If you
must hear it, come with me to my
house, and / will relate TO you that
which is now known to but few per-
sons. That which / will tell you /
have sad reason to know is true, for
the lovely woman was my uncle's
WIFE"
n
cat the base of the Sandval noun
tains lies level mesa of several hun
-dred acres in extent, crossed by a
mountain brook. In the center of the
mesa is rambling adobe building,
with many placitas in which were once
lovely statuary and sparkling foun-
tains, overshadowed by noble trees.
The cool waters of the brook rippled
through the grounds and singing birds
OF brightest plumage dipped their
wings in the sparkling depths. These
wide acres belong to one of the wealth.
lest families in New Mexico, and were
given hundreds of years ago in an old
Spanish grant to the first of the name
.SalaZar who came to this territory.
The house is old, very old, and much
of its former magnificence is still dis
cernible in the rich carvings and
splendid furnishings, but many a
dreary year has passed since human
feet have tread the moth-eaten car
pets or looked from the dust-grimed
windows. The hand of the destroyer
has touched it, and ruin is imprinted
everywhere.
Perfects SalaZar, my fathers young
est brother, inherited this land as his
share in my grandfather's estate. My
uncle was passionate, unreasoning
mana maniac when fairly reused.
He was forty-five years old when he
married, and took for his wife wild
young girl whom he had handled on
his knee when n baby. She did not
love him, it was not in the nature of
haf no oh lint iaI
him in obedience to her fathers COM
mands. She loved a man her equal in
position and age; but to keep her from
a marriage he did not approve, her
father hurried on the marriage with
my uncle.
believe that Dolores Perea meant
to keep sacredly the vows taken at the
altar, and did. so far as it was in her
nature so to do, but her giddy ways
were wholly unsuited to the serious
manhood of my uncle, who loved her
> with all the passionate ardor of man
who had never known but one love.
He surrounded her with every luxury
that money could buy, and her light
mature was in measure cOntented,
but my uncle was SO insanely jealous
of her that his life was made miserable
by Dolores, who often tormented him
nee,1lessly.
1t is just twenty years this very
might since they were married, and
nineteen years since Dolores looked
for the last time on my uncle's face.
She had among her jewels bracelet,
one of that peculiarly hideous pattern
so much in vogue in those days. 1t
was present from her father on her
fourteenth birthday, and being some
what antique in style, it had been laid
aside for a number of years, and her
husband had never CHANGED to see it.
Searching in her jewel case for gems
TO wear to grand ball on that Christ
mas eve, the anniversary of her we'd
ding, she found the birthday bauble
and in spirit of mischief fastened it
on her arm. It's golden scales sparkled
and scintillated as it twisted its coils
about the soft, white flesh. and the
great ruby eyes of the serpentine trink-
ct glowed with lurid fire that seemed
to herald the gathering storm; from
its mouth depended a tiny locket in
which was Senior Perea's picture
painted on ivory so many years before,
lit bore slight resemblance to the Senior
of that day.
Dolores was arrayed in magnificent
attire when my uncle entered the dress
ing-rOOm at her request, to see if she
was robed to suit his over-fastidious
taste. Her dress of filmy black lace
was worn over crimson velvet, and
swept In rudy pillows about her pretty
feet. A heavy band of ruby-studded
gold cleaned in her black hair. About
her beautiful bare throat was clasped